


Grief

by Isaya



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Depression, Dissociation, Fred Weasley Dies, Gen, Grief, Mourning, almost catatonia?, not a happy snippet, suicidal thoughts? kinda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 06:00:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17482496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isaya/pseuds/Isaya
Summary: A glimpse into George's mind after Fred's death. (Not a happy snippet)





	Grief

**Author's Note:**

> So... this has been collecting dust on my computer since 2015, figured it was about time it actually got posted.
> 
> Warnings: grief, mourning, mental health issues, world-weariness/somewhat suicidal thoughts I guess, dissociation, depression, catatonia? ... Pls tell me if I missed sth I should've also warned for.

No one asked him any question any more. No one even talked to him, they had accepted his silence, the fact that he was non-responsive, they had given up as they thought he had.

He mourned. Not a day, not an hour, a minute, not even a second went by when he didn't think about him. His life. His best mate. His brother. His twin. His second half.

In the morning he got up, took care of his morning ritual and then went to sit on his twins bed like a catatonic. His brothers death had ripped him apart. He had no idea where was up and down, he couldn't speak, couldn't move, couldn't see, couldn't feel. 

He saw his family, trying to talk to him, trying to reach out to him, but he couldn't focus on them, his vision stayed forever fuzzy, his ears buzzed and he could tell that, in the beginning, they had touched him but the touch hadn't done anything for him. He hadn't felt it. 

While part of him had known, that his mum was desperately grabbing at his hand, he'd felt disconnected, dislocated even. He knew she was touching him but to him it felt as if she was touching someone else and he was just a passer-by, a stranger, emotionally distanced but still compassionate enough to recognize the woman was despairing.

But it was no use. It had been no use. Not since he died. He'd tried to reach out to them, wanted to, oh so desperately wanted to, but he couldn't. His body wouldn't obey him. Sometimes he felt like a prisoner in his own body, like a ghost locked in a corporal form, in a statue – a moving statue but nonetheless, a dead, lifeless form. It was as if his synapses had been scrambled, and his brain disconnected from his body. 

While he wished to reach out to his mum, his dad, his brothers, Ginny, anyone – his body remained still. When he wanted nothing more than to lie down, to shut down, to... his body would take care of his physical needs. He ate without tasting anything, he was like a marionette.  
His body kept him alive, somehow, and his mum had started to always put a plate of food out on the table, but she didn't try to talk to him any more. But she never failed. Every time his body automatically walked into the kitchen, there was food for him. 

Sometimes, at the back of his mind, he wonders.  
Wonders, if it wouldn't have been better if they'd both died. Better for him, because he's dead now anyway, in any way that counts but the physical.  
Wonders, if it wouldn't have been better if they'd both died. Easier for Molly and Arthur, Bill, Charlie,... Easier, if they had had two bodies to bury instead of one. Easier because then they wouldn't have to look at their dead brother every day, their broken son, the soulless one.  
Wonders, if he got kissed.  
Wonders, what might've been if things were different. If he'd be better at coping.  
Wonders, if he should have died instead of him.

He can't breathe and yet he does. Can't breathe but his body does it anyway.  
He can't feel his heart beating, but it does. Can't feel his blood pumping through his veins, can't feel his lungs draw breath after breath, can't feel... And yet he still lives.  
He exists.  
And exists.  
And exists.

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta-ed, but saw some editing & spell-check.


End file.
